[Closed] Point of No Return

[Aurelie Steerpike]

He had understood, after all. Somehow, impossibly, Aurelie had managed to convey something of her feelings the way she had wanted to. Maybe it was silly, to be so pleased with something like this. If she hadn't been what she was, would it had have meant anything to her? A handmade token, in return for the same? There was no way for her to know, although it seemed unlikely. Perhaps she would be more accustomed to gifts of any kind, and a bracelet made by inexpert hands wouldn't matter to her. That version of herself seemed like one she didn't want to know, thinking about it. A poorer sort of Aurelie Steerpike who couldn't appreciate something simple and sweet. Aurelie was glad not to be her.

"Hmm," Aurelie's smile stayed and brightened, even, when he squeezed her hand back. The grip wasn't comfortable, really. It was warm, and they were nervous, and in different circumstances it was almost unpleasant. Other circumstances, other hands. Maybe the other Aurelie wouldn't have liked this either. This one did. Her heart had grown a little wilder at the tilt of his cheek to her palm; there was some reluctance as she pulled it back. She saw it, the slight dimming of his smile, but it was too late and she was too self-conscious to reach back up.

Besides, she really did want his help with the bracelet. Even if he did have to take his hand from hers to do it. That was probably for the best, anyway--it gave her a chance to surreptitiously wipe her hands against her pinafore before holding out her right wrist.

"I-I mean, I'm sure I could have managed, uhm. Eventually." Aurelie was mumbling, she knew it. She could hear herself doing it, after all. Really, there was just something pleasing about the act of having him fasten it for her that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Foolishness, probably, like everything else was with her. Always foolishness.

He was just so very careful with it, Aurelie like watching the movement of his hands while he did it. Hands were something she didn't think about very often, but when she did they seemed terribly important. Fionn's hands, for instance, she liked in particular. More than her own, small and rough with all her nails bitten so low. A flush crept up her neck when she realized that he surely could see that about them. It was too late now, of course, to change her mind. He'd already almost finished his particular effort. She thought of the other week in the lab, and his buttons. Was it selfish of her to have asked? But no--he'd agreed to, and she wasn't going to allow herself to think too far down that road. It felt too much like pity more than consideration.

"Thank you. Yes, uhm," Aurelie looked up, meaning to catch his eye and smile, "...exactly. Yes." Oh bells and chimes, she really just couldn't handle it when he looked at her like that. Was that normal? If it wasn't, which one of them was more unusual--her for having this reaction, or him for inspiring it? Still, she was happy and it shone through on her face no matter what she did. His hands hadn't moved, so she reached to clasp them with her own again.

Aurelie smiled fondly down at her wrist. The first time she had ever worn anything on it at all. Would she know if he actually wore the other one? She didn't see him very often. He could have been lying to her, really, although it was a strange sort of lie if it had been. What purpose would there have been to that? The thought alone was nice enough. Something to share, or at least to imagine was shared. Aurelie still couldn't quite shake the feeling that she was deluded and silly. Letting herself get set up to be cast down later. She supposed she never would--it seemed to be her nature, after all.

A soft, reluctant sigh escaped her. The day was lovely, she was enjoying Fionn's company--she was happy. But she didn't have forever, a fact she felt like she was always the one to bring up. "I--we should probably... go. Soon. Hmm." She didn't so much as alter her grip; her reluctance was writ large on her face. When would she stop being such a--a complete drag? That, too, seemed to be her nature. She could only hope it wouldn't make her too tiresome too quickly.

[Fionn]

Roalis 47, 2719
Between Breakfast and Lunch
A Brunnhold Garden

.

The youth was quite pleased with the sight of the bracelet on her wrist. It didn’t matter how shoddy he considered the weaving to be, or how pathetic the gift had seemed before, because now that it was in its rightful place, it looked truly lovely. It didn’t look too flimsy either, not on her small, delicate wrist. Actually, it was lucky that it wasn’t too large in fact because otherwise, it would have swamped her wrist. Instead, it seemed to fit just right, even if her wrist was smaller than his own. Fionn couldn’t help but feel insanely pleased, truly proud of what he’d accomplished in spite of all his hang ups about it up until a few moments ago. Now that it was in its rightful place, he couldn’t help but see how the colours seemed to bring out the freckling in her skin, making it pop against what might otherwise have seemed like a flat, pale canvas. More than that though, seeing it on her wrist made it feel as if he had marked her as his. And clocking hell, how strangely right that seemed!

He felt a little shiver run through him in spite of the day’s heat; it wasn’t wholly unpleasant.

She seemed as grateful for the simple action of fastening the band on her arm as she had been with him gifting it to her in the first place. The girl didn’t merely glow but beamed with happiness and it was wildly infectious, the young man finding himself unable to keep a broad grin from his own face. Honestly, he hadn’t thought that he had quite so much mouth but it had really managed to stretch and while there were already some suggestions that it would begin to hurt in the near future, the blond couldn’t bring himself to diminish it. He was grinning like an idiot and that was just fine. He’d been irritable and nervous before this, wound up by that ersehat of a golly professor and the prospect of this meeting, but that all seemed ridiculous now.

It was a lovely sunny day and he would have to go back to work but he had managed to meet up with his girlfriend — it was as good a word as any for her really — so what could be wrong with today really? It was wonderful, how could it be anything else? Now when he returned to his room, he’d be able to knot the bracelet’s twin around his own wrist and it would serve as another connection to her, just like the handkerchief. That being said, this was a far more potent link, and he didn’t think that simply because he’d been the one to make it.

The teenager was glad that he hadn’t pulled his hands away because it had given her the chance to grab them, the youth marvelling at how pleasant that contact was as he allowed his thumbs to stroke her fingers delicately. She hardly needed to be treated as frail, not when she was a working woman with callouses on her hands the same as he did. Hers were hands that had scrubbed pots and kneaded dough, probably having been submerged in all sorts of things at one time or another, and she’d put them through further ill abuse by worrying at her fingernails. The ends were chewed and ragged, the cuticles reddened and split, and those abuses looked as if they hurt more than any work, as it didn’t seem possible that they could get used to such torment. Ill-abused but deserving tenderness. In another life, they would have been a lady’s hands. But they were still shapely, lovely.

It was probably strange how long he could have happily remained gazing at her hands if she hadn’t reminded him that they couldn’t stay here all day, but it had been an oddly pleasant occupation. This time, it was his turn to sigh.

“Yes, I know. I can’t leave Keyes on his own forever,” he murmured, his smile dimming at last, leaving an ache in his cheeks. However, it had barely dimmed before it went back up in intensity as he dredged up some levity.

“I find that you have to feed and water him every now and then. Give him attention, make sure that he has other things he needs. A bit like a plant but more demanding,” he quipped lightly, a wicked sparkle in his brown gaze. “A plant is easier really; people don’t tend to care quite as much if you neglect it and it wilts and dies.”

Fionn found himself sniggering, unable to help himself in spite of the dark turn that his humour had taken. It didn’t seem possible that his newly attained high spirits could be easily sunk this morning.

“And you have far more needy gollies to which you need to tend and aren’t they lucky to have you? Not that any of them appreciate you as much as I do. And no, I’m not just saying that to butter you up so that you make a lovely cake for my sister. A little flattery never hurts though.”

The passive was softly teasing, the tip of his tongue stuck out at her and caught lightly between his teeth before he bowed his head and, provided that she didn’t pull away, pressed a few swift kisses to the backs of her hands.

“You should go. We both should,” he commented in the tone of someone who thought they should do no such thing. He’d returned to peering down at her hands, his lips bowed pensively as his forehead creased. He let a finger trace over the weave of the band on her wrist, humming softly to himself.

“It looks good there. I’m really glad that I gave it to you, the colours against your skin are really- Sweet Lady, listen to me just prattling on about your pretty hands as if there aren’t better ways to spend the day!”

His gaze found her face, his smile crooked as he tilted his head to the side and back again.

“Well, that’s debatable. I can’t think of many things I’d rather be doing instead right now and even fewer places that I’d rather be but…”

He trailed off with a sigh, finally allowing his hands to return to his lap alone, although he made no move to stand up as yet.

“I really hope that we can do this again. Not the uh… hand talk- talking about hands, I mean. The meeting bit. Meeting here,” the teenager clarified with a chuckle as he gazed sidelong af the kitchen maid.

“But I’ll… I’ll see you in a few days? You’ll do your best to come to Niamh’s party, won’t you?”

[Aurelie Steerpike]

The short-bitten nails, the abused cuticles, the callouses--all of these were signs of Aurelie's occupation and temperament, and she felt the strangest mixture of pride and shame whenever she thought of them. Proud, because she knew what they could do, practical things she could feel good about having done. And yet... She had hid her hands from view when she saw her sister, too aware of what they should have been. She had worried, too, that Fionn would see them and see the story of her own anxiousness written out on them and find that lacking, too. But he touched them now so gently, Aurelie didn't know what to do. Fionn held her hands like she was something fragile, worthy of care. It overwhelmed her in the most pleasant way.

His smile, too, overwhelmed her. Aurelie knew she was grinning herself. The muscles in her face, unaccustomed to such efforts, were aching from holding on so long. They weren't about to stop though, not when Fionn looked so pleased. All mouth, that smile. As happy as Aurelie was for her own sake, she was happier still to see it reflected back on his face.

The laughter came easily, even though they were talking about how they had to part. Aurelie couldn't help but picture a a sort of imperious potted plant in academic dress in place of Professor Keyes as Fionn spoke. For all she knew, that was what the man looked like--she had never met him, this strange professor who seemed to alternate between being overly familiar and too demanding. Perhaps that's just what he was.

"We wouldn't want that--I can't imagine you wouldn't get in trouble if your Professor Keyes died of neglect. Serious trouble, I imagine, as they seem attached to professors here. And then how would I see you?" Aurelie didn't think she would have made the joke to anyone else, or at least not phrased it so selfishly, but she thought she knew Fionn wouldn't mind. Sometimes he even seemed to think she was funny. Maybe this would be one of those times.

Her laughter turned to flustered embarrassment when he continued. He was right, she did have needy gollies to deal with--a schools' worth of them, all wanting their midday meal. Not that Aurelie had to deal specifically with any one of them, or they with her. She supposed that yes, they were rather... unappreciative. Even if it was flattery, though, she wasn't used to hearing anything she did was appreciated. Flattery indeed--it certainly seemed to work. As if she needed buttering! Aurelie had already agreed to the favor, hadn't she? She would have made Niamh's cake even if he hadn't said it. The words were still nice to hear, worming into her heart. A little seed of delight, planting itself in her spirit to take root and grow into something unknowable.

"Well aren't you a charmer," Aurelie murmured. She had meant to sound lightly scolding, but her voice was warm and affectionate instead. There was a sincerity to her words, redoubled by the little flutter of her pulse when he kissed the backs of her hands. He was rather charming. Nothing about that was untrue--else, how could she have come to find herself in this position at all? A charmer and a flirt and lovely besides, that's what Fionn was. And here he sat, holding her hand in this sun-warmed garden for Alioe only knew what reason, saying things like that he appreciated her. She was doomed, utterly.

Pretty hands! They were anything but; Aurelie was under no illusions there. She didn't know what could possess him to say such a thing, but she was too happy to hear it. Far, far too happy. Worryingly happy, deleriously happy. An awkward laugh bubbled up out of her throat. Even as Fionn returned his glance to the join of their hands, Aurelie couldn't look away from his face. She could feel the weight of his hand as he traced over the band so recently tied around her wrist. An anchor point, like the bracelet itself would be.

"I don't--that's-- well, ahem. I'm, er, I'm glad you did too. I don't know about, er, c-colors or. Uhm. T-thank you." Aurelie tried to deflect the flutter she felt every time he called her, or even a part of her, "pretty" with a stream of babbling. She wasn't sure it worked, the way her face flooded red again. "And I--uhm. I hope so too. The... the meeting."

Now, there was the question of the invitation itself. She had rather hoped he'd forgotten about it. Aurelie had certainly managed to put it out of her mind, with the talk of the cake itself, vocabulary choices and then of course the bracelet in there too. She hesitated, the dilemma flickering across her face. He had said that Niamh would... like to know her. Aurelie wasn't so sure herself; she couldn't imagine why that would be a desirable state of being. But hadn't Niamh been kind to her before? It wasn't like Aurelie didn't want to know Fionn's sister, really. She just didn't know how to. A hum of indecision, and then Aurelie made up her mind.

"I-if you really... If you really think that it would be--okay, er, I don't want to... to spoil her birthday or..." Aurelie paused uncertainly. If she looked a little green around the gills, it was only her natural social grace looming before her. Maybe she wouldn't be able to go, and she could avoid ever having to find out if Fionn was just being overly optimistic. No, no--she would do her best. Really! After all, she reminded herself, even if the other redhead didn't really want her there, Fionn did. And it was, at the very least, a chance to see him again in a matter of days, and not weeks. Perhaps it would all work out, and the two of them could be friends after all.

"I--I can try. If you really, truly think she wouldn't... mind."

[Fionn]

Roalis 47, 2719
Between Breakfast and Lunch
A Brunnhold Garden

.

The youth sighed dramatically, the sound one of long suffering. Crossing his legs, he placed his elbow on the higher one and propped his chin in his hand. He gazed at her askance, rolling his eyes.

“They really are terribly attached to their professors. I mean… they have enough of them, y’know? And I don’t know that they’d consider him all that important anyhow — he’s quite expendable, I assure you — so really they don’t really have reason to be upset. Not that that would stop them getting all distressed,” he retorted, managing to maintain a tone of mild exasperation but finding his lips quirking upwards all the same. It was a spiteful joke at the expense of a man who hadn’t been exceedingly cruel to him and who Aurelie hadn’t even met, but Fionn couldn’t deny that he enjoyed it. Besides, while it was nasty, it wouldn’t actually cause any harm. Even if Keyes had known about what he was saying, how much could the opinion of a passive servant really matter to him? Honestly, he couldn’t have cared less even if it had made the galdor’s heart bleed because he’d made the kitchen maid laugh, her delight infectious so that there was no hope of keeping a smile off his face.

He could afford a bit of amusement at his companion’s expense as well, albeit there was nothing malicious about his laughter. He hadn’t said a word of a lie about her importance and he had no doubt that she made a far greater contribution to Brunnhold life than he ever had so the praise certainly wasn’t undeserved. It did sound like flattery, he supposed, although it hadn’t been said with the intent of buttering her up, more as a playful tease. Of course, it was quite worth it to see how flustered she became, the response an adorable one and one that frankly he didn’t think he’d tire of seeing any more than he would tire of being able to make her laugh.

There was a slight edge in her tone, some lingering note of what she might have intended to be chiding before her pleasure broke out in spite of herself. The words and that echo of teasing admonition drew more sniggers, which swiftly changed to snorts of laughter as his amusement got the better of him. He bit his lip and concentrated, taking the time to get a grip on his emotions before he devolved into the kind of mirth that brought tears to his eyes. Honestly, it wasn’t that funny and he didn’t need Aurelie thinking that he was completely moony.

The topic of departing did inject a suitable degree of gravity into the situation, that they must part a cruel inevitability of every encounter between them. It was something that he never liked to consider beforehand, thinking of the end a rather dismal thing to do before you’d even reached the beginning but in this case, he had thought about it. In this case, there was an opportunity to see her again and soon, no uncertainty stretching out before them about when they’d next meet. Unless she turned down the invitation, but that seemed unlikely. Surely, even if the thought of his sister put her off, the redhead would want to do it to see him, right? The teenager certainly hoped that she regarded him highly enough for that and maybe it was ridiculous to only hope given the way she’d been gazing at him so far this morning.

No doubt the young woman could forgive him for speaking as idiotically as he did, tripping over his own tongue with a surprising lack of grace for someone who had been so good at saying all the right things only moments before. That was just the way things were for the boy though and had always been. He could be charming, an ersehole, or a proper stopclocker and somehow he could manage to be all three within almost the same breath. The youth knew that he could say the wrong thing as often — if not more frequently — than the right one, just as he knew that he sometimes failed to convey what he truly meant. Unfortunately, he didn’t have any control over which sort of speech came issuing out of his mouth. However, he’d reduced the girl to giggling and stuttering so it wasn’t as if she’d mind much. He didn’t think that she ever minded what came out of his mouth honestly.

“Good because it’d be a waste not to take advantage of the weather and the fact that classes aren’t in session. Not that it isn’t busy but… I think it’s a bit easier to get away sometimes. Not that we can make a date of- I mean, we can’t uh… plan too far in advance but- I can always get a message to you if a chance crops up and you can contact me presumably and uh… yeah, meeting would be… nice.”

He hadn’t intended to say ‘date’ but it had slipped out and his face was growing hot once more so he was blushing again, wasn’t he? Of course he was, but he could manage a private little smile all the same, biting lightly on the inside of his cheek.

As she kept talking, the blond released an exasperated sigh.

“Aura, don’t…” he warned, a disapproving growl rumbling in his throat. He swivelled. Some of the bench’s flaking paint rasped off beneath him as his trousers rubbed against it and his knees knocked against hers. His arms shifted as if to cross over his chest, actually overlapping before he caught himself and moved to grasp her shoulders instead.

“Don’t you dare talk like that! You aren’t going to spoil anything, how the fu- how in the Lady’s name could you?” he snapped, catching himself from speaking too strongly. He thought better of that too.

“No, I will say fuck—how the fuck could you spoil her birthday? How can you think that you being there would- She would be lucky to have you there, Aurelie, do you hear me? You are kind and sweet, you have a good sense of humour and you need to give yourself more credit. Actually, my sister needs to give herself more credit that she’s enjoyable to be around too so maybe the two of you need to get together. Who knows, maybe you’ll both cancel out each other’s self-doubt!”

The middle Madden found himself breathing heavily, panting with the force of his emotions, aware that he might have shaken her a little and suddenly conscious that he had gotten quite indignant—okay, angry—and that might actually have been frightening. He cleared his throat, averting his gaze.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get so… I just… wanted to make you realise…”

The youth looked at her, grinning sheepishly. His hands hovered near her face before he took her chin lightly and pressed a brief, soft kiss to her lips. He drew back an inch and then pressed another brief but more lingering kiss to her mouth before pulling back fully and moving to stand.

“She’d be happy to have you and uh… I’d be happier,” he admitted quietly, biting at the inside of his cheek again as he smiled. “But yes, I should go.”

[Aurelie Steerpike]

"Date"--he'd backtracked fast enough, and truly Aurelie did her best not to put too much weight on the choice of word. It didn't mean, well, anything. She knew it didn't mean anything, because it couldn't mean anything. If the rhythm of her pulse misstepped a beat or two, that wasn't worth thinking about much either. She kept talking anyway, anxiety about the invitation helping her to smooth over anything else.

Not that it seemed to do her case much good--she heard the sigh, she heard the warning. Fionn turned and took little bits of the paint off with the motion, but it was too late because she'd already started, hadn't she? There was nothing for it but to follow her stream of chatter to the inevitable conclusion.

The hands on her shoulders--he had stopped himself just short of crossing his arms--startled her, accompanied as it was by the irritated snap. Oh she had... she had said something wrong again, hadn't she? How would she spoil it--didn't that rather handily answer question? Going on like this wasn't rare from her. Although she supposed she could just not say much of anything, which would certainly prevent saying the wrong thing. Except that would be strange in and of itself, to have this... this outside party, just sort of standing around quietly. Who wanted that on their birthday? Who wanted that... ever?

Aurelie's mouth opened to apologize, then shut again with an abrupt squeak. Fionn was more worked up than she would have thought, and it was more than a bit intimidating. But also--sweet? Was it possible to be both? Aurelie wasn't sure if she agreed with his assessment. Nobody, she thought, could be said to be lucky for having Aurelie in their life, no matter the capacity. Maybe Niamh did need to give herself more credit, that seemed true enough. Aurelie didn't know her well, but she was a nervous sort of person. Similar in temperament, in a lot of ways. But Niamh was--it was different. Because there was probably something Niamh could actually give herself credit for. Her studies, maybe. Aurelie didn't know much about that, but it seemed to her that being Professor Moore's research assistant said something at least moderately positive about her skills academically. And Niamh was kind, too. She had tried to be so to Aurelie multiple times, even though she didn't have to and was probably better off not bothering.

But Aurelie? What qualities did she have to recommend her company? She wasn't... she was only kind when she chose to be, she knew that better than anyone. Kindness didn't count as such if it was just a mechanism to avoid conflict. There was no way for him to know that about her. Not yet. He'd figure it out eventually, like everyone else seemed to. Someday, eventually, Fionn would realize that she was an empty person with nothing of any value to give to anyone else. The bracelet on her wrist felt heavy.

Even as most of her rejected what he said, there was a part that was happy to hear he thought so. True or not from an objective standpoint, if Fionn found it to be so... That was good enough, wasn't it? Her own opinion mattered very little, really. It took her a moment to speak again when he cleared his throat and apologized. She was still a little flustered; her hands smoothed her skirt absently. She pressed her knee back into his and smiled, a small gesture.

"N-no, it's... er, it's fine. Uhm." The "no" came out strangled. Aurelie took a breath, just to lose it again when Fionn took her chin and kissed her. Twice. Twice! This was becoming almost a habit. Not that Aurelie had any objections to speak of. Putting aside her anxiety was a little easier as she watched him stand.

"You're, uhm. I think you might be the only person who has ever--ever said I have a good sense of humor." Aurelie bit her lip and looked down at her hands, but a smile lingered on her face. Now that Fionn was standing, she started to absently pick at the chipping paint again, watching the flakes drop into the grass. She would have to wash her hands when she went back inside before she touched anything. They were probably filthy by now.

With a careful motion she stood. Little flakes of paint dropped from her skirt as she shook it out and pat herself down. Everyone knew she came out here whenever she could, and nobody seemed to mind. Aurelie couldn't help feeling like in this particular moment, she didn't need to be drawing any more attention to where she had been than she already would. Especially if anyone took notice of the bracelet--there was nothing untoward there, not for certain, but it probably would look a bit odd. Now was not a time she wanted to draw attention to herself, even considering how little she wanted to do so on a regular basis.

"I, oh. Uhm. Yes if--I'll try. Er. For... Since you want me there." She couldn't bring herself to look at him, not really. "But I, uhm. I reserve the right to say 'I told you so', if. Well." She arched her eyebrows meaningfully, looking up at last. The expression melted away to something a little more bittersweet. A smile, real and fond, that was only weighed down in the very edges by how sad she was to go. "S-so. I'll, ah. See you then. I hope."

[Fionn]

Roalis 47, 2719
Between Breakfast and Lunch
A Brunnhold Garden

.

He’d frightened her, of course he had. The boy hadn’t scared himself — he knew what his temper was like — but he was shocked to have had it rear its head in this way. Fionn had been so good over the past few months and had managed to keep his inner fires under control. His passions were terrible once roused, he knew how violent he could become and he hadn’t wanted her to see that side of him. He hadn’t been like this since… well, he hadn’t lost control since he’d almost killed Lars. Not that he’d come anywhere near to that level of savage abandon and he hadn’t had poor intentions this time (You didn’t have poor intentions with Lars either) but it had still gone too far.

Fionn was ashamed to have done such a thing. Screaming at the top of his lungs would have been less troublesome to him than the fact that he had gripped her, shaken her, even if it hadn’t been with the degree of violence to which he would once have been accustomed. She thought that he was good though, soft and so of course she’d startled, bless her.

He was in control though. It had been a momentary lapse, more of a vent of frustration really and so it was fine, basically no harm done. Even if she had squeaked in terror like a cornered rat and had stuttered as if afraid to speak to him after that outburst, she still knew him. He wasn’t a danger to her, even if for a moment he had been like a stranger.

The youth was swift to kiss her, returning some equilibrium to their relationship. He would have been lying if he said that the look in her eye before he didn’t send a wave of horror vibrating down his spine. She might have been smiling but it was a timid thing as if she wasn’t sure it was the right response as she stuttered out that his outburst had been fine. Fionn had the strange impression that she’d been on the edge of apologising to him as if she had been to blame for the boy going temporarily moony.

Once their lips had parted, she was still nervous but it was a different sort, her face conveying the typical anxiety that she so frequently displayed around him. The sort that made her stutter and look away and the sort that so often drew a blush and hesitant words from her, but despite all that, she’d usually look pleased with herself, a true smile that broke through in defiance of all the agitation that lingered on the surface. It made his heart beat easier to see her returned to normality, even though he could still sense the potential for violence bubbling beneath the surface, albeit faintly.

“Well, you make me laugh, don’t you? Surely that’s proof enough about your sense of humour,” he pointed out, hands slipping into his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. It might have seemed quite nonchalant but in truth, the youth was working off some of the agitation that had accumulated inside him.

“You seem to think that I have a good sense of humour and trust me, you are a definite minority in thinking that. My sense of humour has been known to piss people off more than it’s made them laugh so…”

The blond shrugged, hand leaving the confines of his pocket to ruffle his hair, a sardonic smile playing about his lips.

He was keenly aware that he should simply say farewell and leave instead of painfully prolonging their parting but he found himself lingering, reluctant to turn his back on her and feeling that a simple goodbye would somehow be too abrupt. It wasn’t wise to stay and wait for something to break them apart like the appearance of others. Truthfully, he wanted to know that she’d come to Niamh’s party. He’d told her that it was up to her but the boy still hoped to get his own way and extract such a promise from her lips. It was terribly selfish, especially given that he’d invited for his own sake rather than Niamh’s, in spite of all the reasons he’d listed for why his sister would be happy to have her there. Honestly, he didn’t know if she’d be glad or not, but the passive felt confident that his sister wouldn’t complain — certainly not to Aura’s face.

The servant wouldn’t beg though. He was pretty confident that if he did so that the redhead would agree to it in a heartbeat but he wasn’t going to go that far. He had no intention of being quite that manipulative. As it was, he was damn near trying to pull it from her, wasn’t he? In spite of that, he couldn’t help but grin when she agreed, snorting at the ‘right’ that she appended to the end. He made a dramatic show of rolling his eyes, complete with head movement.

“If you insist then yes, I can allow you to have that right — not that you’ll need it. I-”

His mouth shut with a pop that was just audible to him. He’d been about to promise that it wouldn’t come to that but while he was confident about how his sister would react, could he really say that he was absolutely certain that the kitchen maid wouldn’t have reason to say that she’d told him so? The idea of making such a promise and then having it broken didn’t appeal.

“I promise that it won’t come to that,” he continued solemnly, his mirth muted as he gazed at her with every ounce of sincerity in his eyes. If she’d allow it then he’d force himself to hold her gaze, not wanting to glance away and appear as if he was lying. Fionn wasn’t lying, he firmly believed it. It didn’t matter that it would be a gathering for his sister, he would do everything to ensure that Aurelie had no reason to feel discomfort there, even at Niamh’s expense. That he would go to such lengths and choose the other passive over his own blood was a surprising revelation for him.

“Goodbye, Aura. I’ll see you soon.”

He put slight emphasis on ‘soon’ while raising his eyebrows meaningfully, even as he silently added, I hope. With a final nod in her direction, the boy turned and headed back towards Professor Keyes’ office, clammy hands thrust deeply in his pockets and a subtle buoyancy to his step.

In spite of everything, the boy’s heart sang.